


Made To Last

by LittleLinor



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Fluff, Foot Jobs, Gratuitous fire metaphors, Inappropriate Use Of Lio's Leather Straps, Just Married, Light Bondage, M/M, Marathon Sex, Mild Painplay, Objectification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Galo and Lio finally tie the knot. It's the beginning of a long and fruitful life.And what better way to celebrate that than with a long and fruitful night?(It's marathon sex and I have no excuse. Merry Fucking Christmas)
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 28
Kudos: 141





	Made To Last

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I dislike writing sex and I'm terrible at it  
> My friends: hey you should write that marathon sex idea you were talking about :D  
> Me: I'll do it, because I have no sense of self-preservation, and because, like Lio Fotia, I simply can't resist the urge to spoil people
> 
> Anyway uh this started with me going “but what if keeping the Promare under control for years gave Lio Absolutely Inhumanly Ridiculous Stamina and even Galo's abs of steel and burning spirit can't keep up, that would be funny” and then it all went downhill.  
> Dedicated to All Of You Enablers, You Know Who You Are
> 
> (A small word of warning: this is pretty damn kinky, with depictions of subspace and domspace and some good old sadism feels. There's also some (consensual) objectification. If you're squeamish around that, proceed with caution or not at all  
> ... I'm not sure whether this actually qualifies as cbt but uh it's definitely adjacent)

The fire rescue truck _doesn't_ blare its sirens and blue and red lights as it drives away from the wedding venue, because Ignis told them that it'd bring too many bad memories and risk making people panic (and both Lio and Galo think he's right), but the giant JUST MARRIED banner floating behind its mech cannon more than makes up for it in grandeur.  
Lucia's drone blares music instead. And throws confetti. It's a Galo kind of celebration more than a Lio kind of celebration, but then again, there's something about being so loud and assertive about the fact that Galo now wears _his_ ring on his finger that gives Lio a subtle feeling of… satisfaction.  
The view from the top of the cannon shows how much of Promepolis still needs to be properly rebuilt, but the city's starting to get pretty shiny again, ruins of Parnassus aside, and, well, life goes on. It's the _point_. If they don't walk forward, how will the world do it? And it's a rather nice view, Lio thinks. In a way, it's much better than the one he first got when he started targeting Promepolis and the Foresight Foundation.  
“So, you sure you don't wanna go on a trip or something?” Lucia calls when she drops them off at their newly built house. “I can send you somewhere nice.”  
“By 'send' you mean 'shoot', don't you?” Lio asks, hopping down from the cannon.  
“You _get_ me, Lio. Galo, your boyfriend's a catch.”  
“Excuse _you_ , I think you mean my _husband_ 's a catch.”  
“Ooooh~ excuse me~”  
“I'll pass,” Lio says. “Besides, I already have plans.”  
“ _Plans_ huh? Well, don't let me delay you, then,” she says with a wink. “Varys! We're going home!”  
“Have fun, you guys!” Varys calls from his window as he turns the gigantic truck around. From the back, Aina, Remi and Vinny wave at them, while Ignis looks appropriately cool. The truck shoots away, followed by the still-playing musical wedding bells.  
“… I'm actually surprised she didn't try to pawn off some toys on us,” Lio says.  
“Would you have used them?”  
“… maybe. So, are we going in?”

The house isn't empty by far. Galo insisted on them really moving in only after the wedding (“it's only three weeks, it'd be sad to miss out on making it a thing, right?”) but relented on the topic of furnishing it, because the idea of just crashing into bed and cooking good meals right off the bat after the ceremony _did_ sound incredibly attractive. So they have a nice, large, comfy bed waiting for them in the bedroom, and a rather advanced kitchen for someone who's eaten rations for half his life and someone addicted to pizza and takeout (Lio swore to himself he'd learn to cook, but life has just been so _busy_ ), a table and chairs, lights that are thankfully _not_ voice-activated (some fears just never quite die), and about half of their belongings, which doesn't actually amount to much. Galo lost everything in the fire and never really built it back up, and Lio's never really had a stable home until now. Most of it is clothes, a few books, and the collection of Burning Rescue posters (modern, courtesy of the Promare's last flareup) that Ignis gave Galo for his last birthday.  
The bed is on the hard side. It's an unfortunate side effect of Lio sleeping on the ground and in hammocks too much and Galo going from the orphanage to living at the station ¾ of the time that neither can actually _sleep_ in a soft bed, and after suffering through it in their former excuse for an apartment and crashing on the couch more often than not instead, they both decided that it was worth the investment and the embarrassment of sitting on the model beds in the store.  
A harder bed also means you can fuck someone into it _without_ risking breaking their back, and that suits Lio's purposes. Especially today.

“So do you want this pizza before or after?” Galo asks, pointing towards the celebratory pizza box sitting on their table.  
Lio smiles.  
“Even after that buffet, you're still hungry?”  
“Well… not that much but I'm never _not_ ready for pizza, you know?”  
Lio smiles, and kisses him.  
“Have some. You'll need it.” He turns. “I'm gonna take a shower.”  
“Wait!”  
He turns back. Galo, to his surprise, almost looks _shocked._  
“… what's wrong?”  
“B-but if you shower, don't I get to undress you?”  
Oh, why is he so _cute_?  
“… is it that important?”  
“Yes?! I don't get another chance to help you out of your wedding outfit?”  
If puppy eyes could kill, Galo Thymos-Fotia would be a wanted criminal.  
And Lio buried a thousand times over by now.  
“… I'm going to be sweaty,” he warns, coming back to sit him down and sit on his lap.  
“Don't care.”  
“Fine, then.”  
Lio kisses him again. He still tastes like juice and the faintest hint of caramel.  
“… you know what,” Galo breathes when Lio finally releases him, “I think I don't want pizza anymore.”  
Lio grins.  
“Are you sure about that?”  
“I can always eat it later. And it's not fun if you're not having any.”  
“It'll be cold.”  
“I can always reheat it. It's special and I'll eat it with you, so it'll taste good anyway.”  
Oh, Lio loves him.

They hit the bed about ten minutes later, and only because Lio was too busy kissing the life out of him to actually get up from his lap. But when Galo starts pulling at his jacket, he decides that This Is It, and he hasn't taken a whole week off for nothing. Who cares if the sun hasn't gone down yet? It's vaguely pink outside and that counts.  
Sitting on the edge of their gloriously hard and large bed, Lio lets Galo slide his jacket off his shoulders and stroke hands up his clothed thighs. There's always something almost sacred about the way he does it, like he's worshipping him; Galo is someone who cares about traditions and rituals, and he's beautifully, painfully devoted, and the combination of it rises to Lio's head every time. The position really doesn't help.  
When his hands reach Lio's feet, Galo groans and presses his forehead to Lio's knees.  
“I don't know what I expected.”  
“How are you surprised?”  
“I thought maybe you were wearing normal socks for once.”  
“Uncomfortable,” Lio dismisses with a flip of his hand. “So, are you gonna get this waistcoat off me?”  
“Maybe I just wanted to kiss your feet for once! Have you thought about that?”  
Lio freezes. And then an idea hits him.  
He smiles.  
“What's stopping you?”  
Galo stops in his tracks. Lio gives him time to reboot.  
“I… I… guess?” He blinks. “… you're right.”  
Lio wiggles his toes at him through the stocking.  
“Go on, then.”  
“I'm going on, I'm going on,” Galo says, taking it in his hands, and oh, maybe Galo's right and it would have felt better directly against skin, but being kissed there feels _wonderful_. That's something he can't really experience with the boots, and maybe he should expand his repertoire.  
Well, it's going to get plenty expanded tonight.  
Galo's lips brush up and to his ankle, and Lio lets his head fall back a little and sighs in pleasure. He should make Galo kneel for him after he's already undressed more often.  
When Galo puts his feet back down to come after his waistcoat, he pulls him into a kiss. It's short, but he's already finding himself burning with the need to take him apart, to feel him coming apart under his fingers.  
_Patience. We have all night. All day. There's no point in rushing this._  
Especially when he knows Galo will feel the same yearning the longer they take.  
“You're the one who said to take the waistcoat off,” Galo grumbles, pouting. Lio laughs.  
“My bad, my bad. Go ahead.”  
He does. The waistcoat comes off, coming to rest at Lio's side on top of his jacket. Galo's apparently worried about getting interrupted again, because he goes straight for Lio's shirt after that, starting with the buttons at his neck. Fortunately, once he's undone a few of them, there's enough room left for Lio to grab his head and kiss him again. If it makes his fingers scramble a little more clumsily on the remaining buttons, Lio decides to magnanimously not call him out on it.  
The shirt finally off, Galo runs his fingers up the side bones of his corset. Somehow, he's always been fascinated by it, and Lio isn't complaining. Having Galo's hands on his waist is something he's always enjoyed.  
Not to mention, Galo's starting to look rather pink. His breath is getting pretty short, and it makes Lio want to make it even shorter.  
He guides Galo's hands a little lower on his waist, to his waistband.

“I want to blow you,” Galo says out of the blue as he pulls back just enough to slip the trousers down Lio's legs.  
Lio lets out a laughing sigh.  
“See, this is why I wanted to take a shower.”  
“You did before the ceremony, it's fine. I don't _care_ , Lio,” he pouts, almost whines, and Lio caves. It's his problem, after all. It's not up to him to decide how much Galo's allowed to push himself.  
“Fine, fine. Get those off too, then,” he says, lifting his hips a little so Galo can get the boxers off him, “I don't want them tangling around my feet while you're doing this.”  
Galo beams. Lio melts a little.  
It's ridiculous. How Galo managed to light such a fire in him. For so long he'd gone on without any real sexual desire, his only experiences rare encounters with followers who wanted to lighten his burden by offering him some temporary release. It felt good, and sometimes it was the last straw he needed for his body to finally cave and _sleep_ , but it was nothing like the fire, the power he feels coursing through him now.  
But Galo managed to pull something out of his core that isn't just about sex, a part of him that was staying curled up and silent even as it shaped every part of him. Galo stoked his flames, little by little, learning his workings and his desires and giving everything he could, and Lio found himself taking and taking again, feeding on his breath, until he found himself burning stronger than ever before.  
In a way, he's burning brighter than he did as a Burnish, and he has Galo to thank for that. For never settling for 'good enough' and never relenting until Lio could be himself fully and blazingly.  
So much for a firefighter never lighting fires.  
The problem, though, is that once he's fired up, he finds his appetite as ravenous as the flames that used to share his body. Letting his desire out while keeping control over _that_ part makes for an interesting balancing act.  
Galo slides the underwear off his legs, and more than anything it's his eyes that makes Lio harden faster than water under a freeze gun. The way he looks up, honest and hungry and _open_. It makes Lio want to take everything and more.  
“Go ahead, Galo,” he murmurs, gently grabbing the back of his head and pulling him closer. “What are you waiting for?”

Galo, to his credit, doesn't need to be told twice. He moves in immediately, with his mouth only at first, and then tentatively bringing a hand up. When Lio doesn't call him out on it, he wraps his hand around Lio's dick, at the base, and starts working in earnest, quickly bringing him from half-hard to fully erect.  
“Good job,” Lio murmurs. “Keep going.”  
Galo's good at this. Maybe it's how determined and enthusiastic he is. Maybe it's how attentive he is to people, to what makes them click. Maybe it's just because he enjoys it that much. Even without any real guidance, he knows how to gradually increase pressure to get Lio to gasp and purr. He takes his time, but doesn't delay things for the sake of delaying them; another day, Lio might have slowed him down to savour it, but today they both know this is just an appetizer. A way to break the ice.  
When Lio starts panting, Galo doesn't even wait for his hand to press him down further. He drops his own, grabbing on to Lio's legs instead, and sinks down on him, matching the small cycling movements of his hips. He lets Lio ease into his throat with a strangled moan, and closes his eyes, letting his body adjust, letting Lio's hips dictate the rhythm. Lio keeps him locked down on him, hand tenderly fisted in his hair, and for once, rather than playing with him, with his eyes and his adorable fluster, he closes his own and tilts his head back and works himself to climax in Galo's throat, thrust after thrust. It feels so _good_ , the warmth and the trembling of Galo's throat and the softness of Galo's hair in his hand.  
“Good boy,” he murmurs, breathless. “Good boy. Don't move. I'm getting there.”  
Galo's hands tighten around his legs in response. He holds himself up with his free arm behind him and leans back, arching his hips up and forward in waves, rolling again and again towards the warmth held in place by his hand. Pressing in, in, _in_ ,  
He comes, with a light moan, and wraps his legs around Galo's back, holding him in place as he rides the wave, emptying part of himself down Galo's throat.  
When he opens his eyes and looks down, Galo's looking up at him, face flushed and tear-drowned eyes full of wonder. His heart does a little jolt.  
“Galo…”  
He hasn't even asked him to. But maybe he's trained him well enough that it's second nature to him by now.  
A little flustered, he pulls back, untangling his legs. Galo coughs, then rests his blazing hot face against Lio's thigh, laughing lightly.  
“Phew. You sure took your time.”  
“Did I?” He pets at Galo's hair, trying to will the blood out of his cheeks. “You didn't have to keep your eyes open, you know.”  
“I know, but…” He grins. “You look great when you're doing that. Your face, I mean.”  
So much for not blushing uncontrollably.  
“That… that's only fair, I guess,” he chuckles.  
Galo's grin widens. He looks so satisfied and proud of himself that Lio almost expects to see a tail wagging behind him.  
Slowly catching his breath, he combs Galo's hair with his fingers.  
“So,” he smiles, “are you up for more?”  
Galo jumps to attention, straightening his head and propping his chin on Lio's thigh.  
“You bet I am. Are _you_?”  
Lio laughs.  
“Don't underestimate me, Galo Thymos.”  
“I think you mean Galo _Fotia_.”  
“I thought we agreed on both?”  
“Well _legally_ yeah. But I like to hear it, y'know?”  
“… I can live with that.”  
And then he grabs the back of Galo's neck, lets himself fall back, and pulls him on top of him.

Ten minutes later, he has two of Galo's long, _blessedly_ strong fingers deep inside him, stroking slow, shaky pleasure into his core.  
They don't often do it this way, but Lio loves it too, loves feeling Galo's hands on him, in him, Galo working so hard to make him feel good, loves being able to let go and let his body grab onto him however it wants, riding his thrusts until he's satisfied.  
“You sure you don't want to take off the rest?” Galo asks, stroking a hand up the thigh he has hooked on his shoulder, brushing at the edge of the stocking with his thumb when he reaches his knee.  
“Yes. I'll let you unlace it after. Add a third.”  
Galo chuckles, breathless, and pulls his fingers out. Seconds later, they're back, with a third and even _more_ lube, and with this much they slide in with no resistance, Lio's muscles stretching with the pressure.  
“Fuck _yes_ ,” he hisses.  
Galo curls his fingers and he moans out a sigh of satisfaction. _Fuck_ it feels good. The kind of good that makes the rest of his body follow the lead of those stretched muscles and go almost limp, releasing all his tension only to come back stronger after.  
Like the most energising of orgasms, except stretched out over half an hour.  
“I'm just saying,” Galo says, scissoring his fingers to stretch him further, “normally you care a lot about getting it dirty.”  
“You said it yourself,” Lio breathes. “Special circumstances. I can handle a little inconvenience for today's sake.”  
Galo falls silent, his fingers slowing. Lio looks down at him, catching his breath.  
His eyes are _swimming_.  
“Lioooooooooooooo,” he cries, like Lio gave him a whole fire truck for Christmas.  
This man is going to _kill him_.  
“B-besides,” he pants, looking away, “you know you always wanted to.”  
“Well _yeah_ but…” He turns his head to the side and leaves a kiss to the inside of Lio's thigh. Damn him.  
“Thank you, Lio,” he whispers, and if Lio hadn't married him literally hours before, he thinks he might propose on the spot before someone else grabs him.  
It's too much for him. He brings one of his hands up, outstretched towards him, and Galo brightens and grabs it, lacing their fingers together.  
“I love you,” he murmurs, and Galo smiles back, small and warm, and somehow that's brighter than all the grins he's gotten directed at him before.  
“I know,” he says. “I love you too.”  
And then he curls his fingers again, dragging slow and sweet, and Lio _moans_ , hips jerking up, his hand tightening around Galo's own.  
Of course. Of course that's how he decides to prove it.  
When has Galo not been a man of action.  
“Galo,” he breathes out, his pleasure and bliss in plain view because Galo, sweetheart that he is, has more than earned it. He can't hold himself back when Galo is drinking his every reaction as his reward for his hard work.  
He's _beaming_. Lio can barely see it through his half-shut eyelids, and it's still blinding.  
“Galo,” he says again, a little firmer this time, just before Galo strokes inside him again and makes his legs clench on him.  
“Yeah?”  
He pulls on their joined hands.  
“Come here.”  
Galo blinks.  
“Like, come here for a kiss, or d'you want me to fuck you?”  
Lio rolls his eyes.  
“ _Both_ , you idiot.”  
Galo beams.  
“I can do that.”

Galo is _hot_. He's aware of the irony of it, but not enough to care. What matters is that the heat he presses inside Lio is _liberating_ , and there's nothing Lio wants more than to hook his legs around his back and press him in by force.  
He can't do that, though, because Galo is a _good boy_ , who treats him with the utmost carefulness and has his legs safely held so he doesn't accidentally hurt himself.  
It's adorable and infuriating.  
_I've lived for years with literal fire inside me_ , he wants to tell him, _do you really think a little friction is going to kill me?_  
But he doesn't, because he doesn't want to talk down Galo's efforts, and he's not ready to face the dreaded puppy eyes.  
So he closes his eyes, and hangs on to Galo's hand, and waits for the _maddeningly_ slow push of Galo's dick inside him to come to its end.  
Galo, at least, doesn't stop until he's fully in, and Lio silently thanks him for that.  
He releases Lio's leg and bends forward, his size allowing him to reach Lio's face for the promised kiss. Lio buries his hands in his hair.  
“You okay?” he asks when Lio releases him.  
“I'm _more_ than okay, Galo. You don't need to be so careful.” He sighs, fond and significantly less frustrated now Galo's fully sheathed inside him. “You don't ask me to be anywhere near that delicate with you.”  
“That's 'cause I like it when you get all rough and excited~” he hums. He's panting lightly, and that's satisfying too, knowing that just being inside him is having that effect on him. That he doesn't even have to _do_ anything for Galo to lose himself in his hold. “Also, the orgasms're incredible.”  
“Oh really?” Lio tells him with a smirk that barely disguises his laugh. “How about you show me how you come _now_ , then?”  
Galo, bless him, hides his face in Lio's chest.  
“Look, if you say it like that I'm gonna do it before I do anything for you.”  
Lio laughs.  
“What, did I train you that well?”  
“Well _yeah_?”  
Lio can't stop smiling.  
“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'll only say it when I want you to. Now go ahead, will you?”  
Galo does. The first pull as Galo withdraws is almost _agonising_ with how long he stayed in place before, but by the time he sinks back in Lio's muscles have gotten used to being worked again, and he leans his head back into Galo's hold, exhaling in pleasure.  
“Keep going,” he breathes.  
Galo keeps going. He's strong, here too, his well trained thighs and abdominal muscles giving him free range to move as much as he wants, as firmly as he wants. His thrusts are long and deep and fluid, almost effortless-looking, and it's almost everything Lio wants.  
Almost.  
“Harder,” he calls, breathless.  
Galo falls out of rhythm.  
“Huh? A-already?”  
Lio brings one of his legs up and hooks it around his neck.  
“Galo _Fotia_ , if you don't fuck me harder _this instant,_ I'm flipping you around and riding you.”  
Galo freezes. His face, already flushed, turns an impressive shade of red.  
“I…”  
Once more, he hides his face in Lio's shoulder, pressing his leg down on him in the process. Lio lets out a shaky breath and curls his hips to accommodate the position.  
“Sorry,” Galo mumbles, “give me _just a second._ ”  
“… you have ten,” Lio says, mentally giving him thirty.  
In less than ten, Galo straightens, still cutely red.  
“Okay. Okay. Hang on tight.”  
And he _thrusts_. Hard, deep, making Lio's body move with him, and _yes_ , that's the feeling he wanted right there. His hand flies to Galo's hair as his hips push up.  
“ _Yes_. Just like that.”  
“You're going to… kill me…” Galo pants above him, and Lio laughs and kisses him.

Despite his complaint, Galo has more than enough burning spirit. He speeds up, lightly but gradually, and Lio holds on to him and lets his body melt into the rhythm of it. With the corset supporting his back and waist, he finds himself lifted rather than curling, supported by Galo's thighs and the death grip of his own, and the angle it gives feels incredible. Almost enough to make him question his usual policy.  
As it stands, he's content to revel in the feeling of Galo's hands on him, under him, holding him through it, of Galo moving inside him with the passion he puts into everything. It's edging him to a different kind of close, and he feels so _light_ and powerful that he could almost fly. Galo's panting above him, his breath breaking on Lio's collarbones and neck, and he wants to drink it all.  
“Galo,” he breathes as he feels his body start to tense, and Galo looks at him, eyes misted and a little wild, his focus entirely on him. Lio smiles. “Come for me.”  
And Galo does. He does before he's really registered it, with a strangled moan and a sudden, shaky thrust of his hips, his eyes widening and then screwing shut for half a second before he hides in Lio's shoulder, and it's hearing, seeing him like that that washes through Lio like a wave, his muscles gripping onto him again and again at the sound of his breaking voice, the sight of his body driven solely by Lio's voice.  
He tightens his hand in Galo's hair, throws his head back, and lets himself ride it, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through him, his heart and hunger burning brighter than ever before.

When he starts coming down, he's panting, and Galo isn't doing much better, shakily pulling out. Still, he takes the time to support Lio's back as he lowers his hips back to the bed, and that's adorable. Lio waits for him to be done, and wraps his arms around his neck to pull him close.  
Galo collapses on top of him with a sigh, and he laughs.  
“Good job,” he murmurs, stroking his hair. “Thank you.”  
“You just _had_ to do that, huh?” Galo mumbles into his neck.  
“Of course.” He kisses the side of his head. “You looked incredible, by the way.”  
Sliding to the side a little, Galo tilts his head, just enough to reveal one of his eyes and look at him. He looks spent and _shy_ and the sight goes straight to Lio's heart.  
“Have I told you I love you?” he murmurs, combing through his hair, unable to hold back his admiration.  
Galo smiles against his skin.  
“Yeah. Like fifteen minutes ago. I didn't count.”  
It feels good. Having Galo curled up on and against him like that, his large shape giving him so much warmth. Galo's hair under his fingers. Laying together and letting their bodies slowly go back to normal. Having _time_ ahead of them, time to just stay curled up or play with each other more or just _relax_ , for once.  
What feels _less_ good is the feeling of Galo's come in him, no matter how much he enjoyed the process and feeling of getting it there. He ignores it, for a while, just making the most of their cuddling, but when it becomes distracting, he sighs and pushes himself up, waiting for Galo to move so he can sit and stand.  
“I _really_ need that shower now. Care to help me unlace?”  
Despite how tired he'd looked just seconds before, Galo is up in a flash, moving behind him and reaching for his laces.  
“Just loosen it for now,” Lio warns him. Galo nods, and undoes the knot keeping them taunt. In mere seconds, the tension eases, and Lio suddenly finds the prospect of just curling up with him to sleep much more attractive than it had been a minute ago.  
“Like that?” Galo asks, leaning his chin on his shoulder from behind.  
“Yeah.” He reaches for Galo's hands and wraps his arms around his waist, holding them in place. “I hope I didn't work you too hard.”  
“You're a slavedriver,” Galo laughs into his neck (excellent, shiver-inducing), “but I'm not the universe's number one idiot firefighter for nothing. Give me time to breathe and I'll be up for more.”  
“Mmm good.” He leans his head on Galo's for a bit, takes the time to breathe, to let his body relax. Despite the discomfort, it feels good.  
“So what d'you have in mind next?” Galo asks.  
“I think you've worked hard and deserved a reward,” Lio answers. “It's your turn next.”  
“ _Sweet._ ”  
Lio smiles. The open, warm enthusiasm is probably half the reason he married a self-proclaimed idiot firefighter.  
“Before that, though, I think I could go for some food.”  
“So is it pizza time?”  
“Yes. Finish unlacing me and go heat it up, I'll join you in a minute.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, Lio steps out of the shower, quickly towels his hair dry (or mostly, anyway), and pulls out one of Galo's overlarge (and rarely used) tshirts from the dresser to throw over himself. In the kitchen, he finds Galo pulling the pizza out of their new oven.  
“It was still kinda warm, so I just put it in for a minute or two,” Galo tells him brightly, setting it down on the table. He's in his underwear, and Lio's surprised he even bothered to put anything back on at all. Galo hadn't actually _complained_ , but Lio knew the well fitted formal clothes made him uncomfortable, and he'd just dealt with them for hours.  
What it _doesn't_ hide is the slowly forming bruise on his back where Lio's heel hit and pressed repeatedly.  
He feels a little guilty. But only a little.  
Galo sits on one of their chairs and pulls out a slice with a hum of pleasure. Lio walks behind him, and rubs his fingers on the mark, causing him to shiver.  
“You could have told me I was being overly enthusiastic,” he says, a statement and reminder rather than criticism.  
“Oh, 's it bruising? I was wondering if it'd happen.” He laughs and bites into his pizza. “'s fine. 'sides, you were busy threatening me with, uh, more good sex.”  
Caught off guard, Lio laughs a little too, breathless.  
“It wasn't a very scary threat, huh?”  
“I was worried about _failing_ , not about you riding me. I _like_ you riding me. Although,” he adds, tilting his head back with a playful glimmer in his eyes, “I like it the other way around better.”  
Lio would have kissed him if his mouth wasn't half full of pizza.  
“I'll keep that in mind,” he quietly tells him instead, before moving to take a chair and a slice of his own.  
The pizza, as usual, is delicious. Re-opening as fast as possible and re-hiring not just his old pizzaiolo but also two other ex-Burnish waiters had been a gutsy move, but in the end, with the help of a bit of security and Galo's constant and enthusiastic patronage, it had turned into a success. Lio's still surprised it actually worked, considering how high tensions still are sometimes, but he tries to take it as encouragement. The prejudice can't last forever, especially when there's no longer any way to discern an ex-Burnish from an average human and no Burnish children are born. A generation or two, and the scars on the population should start to fade, even if reconstructing the entire world will likely take some time and bring a completely new era.  
_That_ part is exiting, in its own way. And seeing humanity rise from its own ashes brings him a sense of satisfaction that has nothing to do with Kray Foresight's self- (and other) destructive fatalism and proving it wrong. At all.  
What's also satisfying is the renewed energy the food somehow seems to give him before it even really hits his stomach. Between that last orgasm, taking off his corset, and the hot shower, he'd crept from Comfortably Warmed Up too close to the edge of Comfortably Sleepy, and then his plans for the evening would have been ruined.  
Besides, he _did_ promise Galo a reward. He's not about to go back on his word.  
“You should take a quick shower too,” he tells him once they've downed a significant portion of the pizza. “You'll feel refreshed.”  
“Are you coming with me?” Galo asks with a wink.  
Lio rolls his eyes.  
“Keep your energy for bed.”  
“Oooh, is that a threat or a promise?”  
Lio smiles.  
“Maybe both.”

“So,” Lio asks once Galo comes back from his (amusingly longer than his) shower, “which way should I start with.”  
“ _Now_ you're giving me a choice?” Galo teases, dropping flat on the bed on his back and almost making Lio jump with the bed's backlash.  
(It doesn't even creak. Truly an excellent purchase)  
Lio looks down at him.  
“I did say this was your reward.”  
“Ooh, true, true. Hm.”  
He frowns in concentration. It's adorable.  
And then, with a thoughtful hum, he scoots a little further down the bed, letting his hips hang just off the edge, and flips on his stomach.  
“Yes.”  
Lio's eyes widen.  
“Like this?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You'll get tired.”  
“When's that ever stopped you?”  
“… I guess you're right.” He chuckles. “If that's the reward you want.” He stands. “Move closer to the middle though. We'll have better balance.”

The thing about Galo (especially when he's being fucked, which they happen to have a lot of experience with) is that he's so. Very. _Vocal_.  
Not loud, necessarily. Surprisingly for someone who can yell so damn loudly over panicking people or the noise of a fire, he's usually fairly quiet unless taken by surprise. Well, quiet for Galo, which Lio is aware is probably not a normal frame of reference. But he will just _never shut up_ once he starts being taken apart, and the more incoherent he gets the more he babbles.  
Lio loves it.  
It feels so _good_ , hearing his name in Galo's mouth, moaned out over and over again. It feels good, hearing his little encouragements and pleas, the way he starts begging without even thinking about it.  
Hearing him moan it all with his head pressed down into the bed by Lio's hand and weight and the warmth of his body trembling around Lio's dick is intoxicating.  
The bed is just a little too low for Galo. Even with his legs spread, he's struggling a little, too high to be on his knees, too low for his legs to make for stable support.  
It is, however, the perfect height for Lio.  
He pushes most of Galo's weight forward, on the bed, and keeps the rest of it anchored to his hips, moving him with each thrust, and Galo just _loses it_ , his hands gripping the sheets for everything they're worth.  
_Next time_ , Lio thinks, _I'm tying them back._  
Picturing the extra curve of his back with his arms folded in the small of it is enough to drive him even hotter, digging fingers into Galo's hip and breathing out his name in a growling hiss. And besides, it's not like he has any shortage of belts lying around.  
Scrap that. Why wait for next time?  
“I'm tying you up next round,” he purrs, not quite in Galo's ear because he can't reach it even if he bends down, but close enough on his back that Galo definitely heard it, judging by how his entire body twitched.  
“Yes,” he sobs. “Yes, Lio, yes…”  
“Maybe I should've done it now,” he adds, having entirely too much fun with the shaking of Galo's hip under his hand. “Just think about it. Face down like that with nothing else to help you hold yourself up. Just your face,” he says, punctuating with another thrust, a little harder than usual, “buried in that mattress. Wouldn't you like that?”  
Galo _keens_ , his legs scrambling for purchase. He grips the sheets harder, but presses his face further into the bed, straight down, moaning and sobbing into it.  
He's probably growing close, Lio suddenly realises. But without being encouraged to, he's not asking for it, not showing any indication that he's about to.  
He bites his lip, and thrusts into him again, hard and grinding, the way Galo loves it. He's more than earned it.  
“Good boy,” he murmurs.  
And then Galo sobs and _lets go_.  
He lets go of the sheets, sobbing and shaking, and Lio almost falters because he's _bringing his arms down_ , depriving himself of support, laying them at his side at first and then gripping them behind his back.  
“Please,” he babbles, barely turning his head to the side for more support, “Lio please, I'll be good…”  
Lio thrusts hard, and Galo's cheek and chest slide forward on the bed.  
“ _Aah!_ ”  
It's too much. Lio is going to need a day just to recover from the sight.  
“Are you close,” he murmurs, deep and hungry.  
“Yes! Please, Lio, please, I—”  
Lio fucks him again, harder, taking in the way he moves with it, the shot of _power_ , the vulnerable desperation on his face, until he's on the edge himself, just this close to grabbing his hair and spilling in him.  
“Come, then,” he whispers.  
Galo comes, his body working itself around Lio's dick in quick, deep clenching waves, but it's the tears in his voice that actually pull Lio along and into his own.

Lio holds him afterwards, stroking his hair and humming as he pants into his chest.  
There's stray tears on his face, drying in their shared heat, and they settle deep in Lio's stomach, a special, grounding kind of satisfaction.  
It's a little worrying, sometimes, how much he loves Galo's tears.  
“You went above and beyond,” he murmurs into Galo's hair. “And I was supposed to be the one rewarding you.”  
Galo sniffs, and smiles, nuzzling his chest. “'s still a reward if I enjoy it.”  
Lio chuckles.  
“I suppose it is.”  
Galo breathes, in, out, deep. It's amazing, really, how quickly he recovers—or rather, how good he is at making himself recover. Lio isn't blind or stupid. It's a _skill_ , one that he's acquired not just from training for a difficult, dangerous job that requires quick decision making in the face of fear, pain, and potential loss, but also from his entire life, years and years of choosing to move on rather than linger on pain and on the past, of putting his pain and fear aside to deal with them later.  
Galo might be predisposed to that kind of optimism, but Lio isn't complacent enough to fool himself into thinking that it's natural, _free_. Galo's resilience is the hard-won fruit of consistent choices. He doesn't want to take it for granted.  
“Don't push yourself too hard,” he says, leaning his cheek on Galo's hair. “We have all the time we want.”  
“I'm fine,” Galo breathes at first, but then he grins and loops his arms around Lio's waist, holding him tight. “But I like _this_!”  
Taken by surprise, Lio laughs. He didn't expect Galo's sudden transformation into an outright cuddle demon considering he was boneless a second ago, but then again, it's so painfully _Galo_ that it makes him melt. He lets Galo move him to his back, and laughs again as Galo nuzzles his stomach, grinning in satisfaction like he's won a decisive battle.  
The essence of his tail is so strong that Lio can almost see it wagging. For a second, he almost thinks the Promare are back just for Galo, just to add the parts of his body that are _clearly_ missing.  
… if Galo had puppy ears, he would never stop biting them.  
“Fine, fine, you puppy,” he laughs. “I never said you couldn't cuddle.”  
“Hehe… Victory!”  
Lio rolls his eyes and goes back to stroking his hair.

“So you said something about tying me up?”  
Lio looks down, to where Galo was resting with his head on his stomach, and raises an eyebrow.  
“Eager to go already?”  
“You say that like I'm ever not.”  
Lio chuckles.  
“So what were you gonna do,” Galo insists.  
“I'll just tie your hands back. Like you obviously guessed,” he adds, a hungry, teasing edge to his voice, and Galo blushes again at the memory. “You looked very eager for it.”  
“Yeah, well…”  
He doesn't actually try to expand on that, and Lio takes pity on him.  
“I'd rather take my time if I tie you up fully,” he explains. “It takes time to set up, and I want to be properly careful. But I can do and check your hands easily enough.”  
“You're always very careful,” Galo says, kissing his stomach. Lio thinks about the way he was fucking him moments ago and raises an eyebrow. “I can tell, Lio,” he adds, chuckling. “You don't do things if you think I might get hurt. But you're kinda forgetting one thing.”  
“Which is?”  
“I might be an idiot, but _I'm still a trained medical professional._ ”  
Lio stares. He knows this, of course, but somehow the idea that it was relevant here hadn't brushed his mind.  
“… you really did get used to being responsible for everyone, huh?” Galo says with another chuckle and _another_ kiss. “But I'm not defenseless, you know. And I can tell when something's wrong with my body. We're trained for this, on both sides.”  
“I…” He sighs, caresses his hair. “You have a point. I'll try to remember that.”  
Galo beams.  
“… I'll still keep the full bondage for next time, though. I don't want to rush it, even if I know you're safe.”  
“Fine, fine,” Galo laughs. “So when are you tying my hands then?”

 _When_ turns out to be _right now_.  
Lio's straps fit just right around Galo's folded arms. They're _almost too short_ , which really gives Lio extra appreciation of his husband's arms, but they work, which is what matters. For anything more, he'll get his hands on rope.  
“How do you feel?” he asks as Galo tests the restraints, tugging gently.  
“Hm.” He furrows his brow in concentration for a minute, which is _unfairly cute_ on him. “… feels fine. No tingling or anything else.”  
“Good.” Lio kisses him, and then taps at the floor in front of the bed with his foot. “On your knees, then.”  
Galo is always quick to get to his knees. Lio might have teased him about it, if he didn't love it much too much to ever risk upsetting him or making him self-conscious about it.  
What's more impressive is that he can do it that quickly when his hands are tied back. It takes balance, control, and some strength. And yet Galo does it effortlessly.  
Whatever Kray did to get him into Burning Rescue, it can't have been much. The efforts Galo made are written over his entire body and life. He earned every little scrap of what he was given, and then worlds more.  
Still, his efforts are _adorable_. And Lio has a hard time resisting the urge to make him do more.  
“Hm,” he muses, crossing his legs and resting the foot holding his weight on Galo's thigh. “I have half a mind to make you take care of them first.”  
“I-I mean… you're the boss…”  
He's already panting a little. Bless him.  
“You look like you could go for it,” Lio says with a smile.  
“For you, I could go for _anything_.”  
Lio falters a little, his breath catching.  
“… dangerous words, Galo,” he says, stroking his thigh with his foot.  
“I mean it. If you want me to blow you again, I could do that~”  
“… tempting. But I have other ideas.” He presses his toes into Galo's thigh, then lifts his foot closer to Galo's face level. Demonstrating his own strength and flexibility makes him feel a little less self-conscious. “Kiss it.”  
It would have been easier with his hands free, maybe. But the cute way Galo leans forward to catch his foot from underneath and keep it supported with his lips and jaw more than makes up for it. He's quick and tender rather than overly sensual, but even that is very _Galo_ , and it wakes dual warmth and heat in Lio's heart and body. He nuzzles at Lio's foot, too, and the brush of his nose against the underside tickles, but not enough to lose his cool. Instead, he breathes in, deeper.  
“Good boy,” he murmurs.  
“Can I, um…”  
“Hm?”  
Galo shoots him a quick questioning look, and swipes at the inside of his foot with the tip of his tongue, a quick little dart in and out.  
“… yes.”

If Galo's tongue is good at the more obvious uses, it's also _plenty_ agile when it comes to worshipping Lio's feet. He hadn't really thought of it before, but now he feels like a fool for not having tried—although the blame lies partly with Galo, who usually focuses so much on his boots that Lio rarely has time to actually get his feet bare in these contexts.  
Galo slides his tongue against the curved, rising arc on the inside of his foot, and he makes a note to actually make him do that again later. Maybe one day they can take the time to do this until Galo's panting and desperate, the way he sometimes gets just from servicing Lio.  
Not that Lio isn't having to hold back the urge to pant a little himself. As previously mentioned, Galo's tongue is _good_. He's very glad to have it for himself.  
“'s it feel good?” Galo asks between two licks, nuzzling Lio's foot instead, face and voice painted with genuine, almost childish curiosity.  
“Yes.” He breathes in deeply, lets the pleasure settle into his bones.  
Galo grins. He looks so proud of himself.  
“… and what if I do this?”  
He moves back just a little and takes Lio's toes in his mouth. All five of them, because Galo Thymos (Sorry—Thymos-Fotia) doesn't know the meaning of the word 'restraint'.  
Lio gasps, then moans lightly when Galo's tongue slides between his largest toe and the one next to it. He decides to let Galo have it, rather than be grudging about it. He's made _him_ moan more than enough today already, after all.  
“You… you can if you want. You've been good.”  
Galo grins around his foot and sucks. Of course he does.

As much as he enjoys the feeling of being worshipped, the sight of Galo with his foot in his mouth quickly pulls at Lio's strings in ways that make him impatient. It's less the sensation itself (although _that_ is both sensual and arousing) and more the sight of it, the obvious struggle that he powers through, the slight tears forming on his eyes when he pushes himself a bit too far and Lio hits his palate or his throat. After a few minutes of it, Lio decides that he wants to enjoy it _better_ and pulls back just long enough to unfold his legs, settling into a more comfortable position and shoving his foot right back into Galo's mouth, causing and muffling a small yelp in the same movement. His other foot braces on the side of Galo's thigh, heel on the floor, and Galo moans, moving into it and fucking his mouth deeper on Lio's foot.  
He looks so fucking _dazed_ already. Beautiful. Delicious. So painfully endearing.  
Heart beating madly, Lio shifts his foot and presses Galo's slowly growing erection up against his stomach.  
“You can do this, right, Galo?” he murmurs.  
Galo moans in weak agreement and closes his eyes, sucking on Lio's foot as Lio toes his erection.  
Lio snaps his fingers.  
“Galo.”  
Galo's eyes fly open. Lio smiles.  
“That's better.”  
He works him with his foot at Galo pants and moans around the other one. He's slower to get there, this time, his stamina starting to fray, but still his burning spirit seems to carry him forward, and before long he's whimpering and twitching his hips forward against Lio's foot. As soon as he's fully hard, Lio grins and shifts, raising his foot a little and bringing it _down_ this time.  
Galo keens.  
Lio's name comes strangled and muffled out of his too-full mouth, only recogniseable from the rhythm of it. He's panting and desperate, whimpering with every twitch of his hips, every press and grind of Lio's foot against his erection. Lio presses harder and Galo, tears beading at the corners of his eyes, _takes him deeper_ , like he's desperate to be ruined, desperate to be broken, and it's Lio's legs that start shaking at the sight, at the _noise_ , at the desperate little spasms of his mouth and throat and the helpless twitches of his hips.  
It's overwhelming, and yet he can't get enough. Galo gives so much, gives _himself_ , gives, gives, gives, and Lio wants to take it all, wants to take him apart and put him together again.  
He could make him come in seconds, he thinks. Galo's worked up enough, and deep enough in his feeling of belonging to Lio that the order would shoot through what's still running of his mind and right to the deep, reflexive part of his brain, and down through his spine. But he doesn't want to now, wants instead to keep pushing him, keep pulling him deeper and deeper. He presses down again, painfully hard.  
Galo breaks into strangled sobs, coughing around the intrusion, and cries, the tears spilling and running down his cheeks, unrestrained and unhidden. And how could he hide them anyway? His hands are still tired.  
And yet he's not pulling back, not asking him to stop. Just crying and keening and leaning _forward_ into the invasive pressure of Lio's foot spearing his mouth, gagging and using it for support, and it's worth every burning muscle in Lio's thigh and stomach. He could go on until Galo is completely _wrecked_ , wrecked and limp and helpless.  
It's enough to make _him_ moan too.  
“ _Good boy_ ,” he breathes, and it breaks out of his mouth almost like a snarl. The fire in him is _hungry_ , and this time, he has no alien flames to blame.  
He keeps his eyes on Galo's own, drinking in the fog and tears decorating them, and presses again, grinds, and Galo howls and sobs and _jerks into it_ , and Lio loses the ability to breathe.  
“Come, now,” he whispers, _come for me, come like this, come like you can't help it, like it's the only thing you've ever wanted, come around me like you can't do anything else, be anything else, come with your eyes on me_ , and Galo, despite everything, does, spilling and crying and crying and crying.

Lio's shaking when he's done, less from the strain and more from the _sight_ , from how deep inside him the feeling of Galo's helpless, desperate orgasm sunk, from the sudden draft of non-heated air that runs through his head, unburdened by lust. He shakes, blown away by the feeling that just carried him, the hunger that flared so high, stronger than he ever imagined. It's terrifying, now that he's coming down. But it's also powerful, wonderful, _tender_. He doesn't know what to make of it.  
But Galo coughs, then, sobbing a little, and Lio immediately pushes his own preoccupations aside to focus on him.  
“I'm here,” he tells him gently, pulling his foot back. Galo starts to collapse, at first, following it, so Lio quickly bends and catches his shoulders with his hands, stabilising him until he can slide from the bed, kneel in front of him and hug him, tight and secure. “I'm here. It's okay.”  
Galo pants, wordless, squeezing his eyes shut and hiding his face in Lio's neck. It's almost eerie, a Galo who doesn't talk, who doesn't even moan; Galo is never silent, and it's now that Lio realises how accustomed he's grown to the noise, to his voice following him wherever he goes. He tightens his hold.  
“It's okay… it's okay…”  
Galo, silently, nods. And then he coughs lightly and presses his eyes against Lio's shoulder.  
“… 'm okay,” he says, a tiny piece of voice that reaches Lio's ear and warms his heart.  
“Good… good. Can you hold yourself up?” A small nod. “I'll clean this and then we can get back on the bed, okay?”

He holds Galo in his arms, hands still bound, and waits for their fire to simmer down.  
It's easier, laying together, Galo's body pressed against his chest, his legs. He can rest, and watch Galo's body slowly relax, unknot itself from its strange mixture of tension and helpless limpness and into a more comfortable, abandoned kind of limp.  
He runs his fingers through Galo's hair, and tells himself, not for the first time, that the man he chose to marry is incredible.  
It felt like an evidence, really. And it wasn't like many people were surprised. But the choice of taking that step was still there, and Lio had been more scared than he'd like to admit. He'd done it, he'd proposed, but he'd still been scared. You don't live on the run and watch people you care for die without being at least a little scared of settling down.  
But it was all worth it. It's worth it, just for the smallest of smiles gradually painting itself over Galo's relaxing lips, for the softness of his closed eyelids, for his breath breaking against Lio's chest.  
He wants to hang on to it as hard as he can.  
He waits, for long, warm, silent moments, for Galo's eyes to open.  
“… phew,” Galo breathes against him, after what Lio thinks might actually have been over half an hour. His eyes are still closed, but he's smiling, warmly this time, nuzzling ever so slightly into Lio. “That was. Something.”  
“I… you were very eager,” Lio mumbles.  
Galo chuckles, and opens his eyes, grinning.  
“I mean yeah. That's the first time I see you _that_ unleashed. Wouldn't want to hold back and make you think I didn't want it.”  
Lio's heart trips.  
“I…” He hides his face in Galo's hair, and Galo laughs. “You could tell?”  
“C'mon, how long've we been together now? You've done worse before but…” He pauses, thoughtful, a slight hum of concentration reverberating through Lio's body. “… this time it was like… like being in front of that dragon of yours. Like you're just about to shoot.”  
Lio thinks of the one time he almost did unleash _those_ flames upon someone, and quickly pushes it from his mind.  
He must have tensed, because Galo nuzzles at his chest again, tender and soothing.  
“Hey. I'm saying I liked it.”  
“I…” He pauses. “I'd like to say I didn't, but I'm not sure about that,” he sighs.  
“Why wouldn't you? I like it when you're like that. It feels very… you.”  
“Shouldn't that worry you?” Lio asks, trying to smother the panic seeping into his veins.  
“No.”  
Galo says it with such immediate conviction that the hammering in Lio's ears stops. He breathes, instead, a little shaky, and stays hidden in Galo's hair, waiting.  
“It doesn't worry me,” Galo says. “I know you wouldn't hurt me.”  
“… what makes you so sure?”  
“Cause the _one time_ you really got pissed enough to want to hurt someone, it took _hurting everyone you cared about_ to push you that far. And _even then_ , when I reminded you, you calmed down. You're not gonna suddenly stop caring or listening just because you got _excited_.”  
“I…” He breathes, holds on to Galo a little tighter. “… I suppose.”  
“Hey,” Galo says, nudging at his chest, “trust me too, okay? I know what I'm about. I'm good at reading people okay?”  
“… I would question that, but even the smartest of us can fall prey to an experienced manipulator. Especially as children.” He kisses Galo's head, taking in how warm and solid his body feels even in this weakened state. “Fine. You win.”  
Galo giggles proudly. Lio sighs, and ruffles his hair.  
“… does it still hurt?”  
“… little sore,” he admits, voice still full of laughter. “It'll pass.”  
Lio nods, and just goes back to holding him, to savouring the moment. It's nice, being quietly together like this. He wishes he could be just as spent as Galo is, and just enjoy the satisfaction that comes from having used up all his energy.  
Unfortunately, it's far from being true for him. While Galo's stamina seems to have been mostly used up (although Lio doesn't doubt he could get himself back in the game at least once more on Burning Spirit alone), he's still feeling as fresh as ever. It's always been the case when they've been in bed together, but usually they'd rest after a round, maybe two, and Galo himself holds up well against the strain. But now that they're actually taking the time to keep going as long as they want, the difference he's been suspicious of is starting to show.  
He's not sure how to feel about it. Some people might have been proud, seen it as a token of superiority. But honestly it just makes him feel self-conscious. It makes him feel Other, not to mention the blissed out, spent feeling he's being robbed of. And he doesn't want to be demanding, when Galo already gives so readily.  
He sighs, leaning his cheek against Galo's hair, and only realises how obvious he was when Galo shifts, looking up at him a little.  
“What's up?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Nu uh. You're doing that broody silent sigh thing. You're thinking hard about something, and it's not going the way you want.”  
Lio raises an eyebrow.  
“When did you become a self-proclaimed expert on my moods?”  
“When I married you maybe.”  
Lio rolls his eyes, but he can't help the fond smile that slides onto his face.  
“Do you have enough energy left to go again?” he asks out of the blue, ignoring the question. Although technically, he _is_ answering the question. Technically.  
“Yeah? Might need a little time, though.” He leans back a little, looking at Lio in an almost playful way. “So I'm not gonna get an answer huh?”  
“… I'd rather have fun with you than think too hard about things right now.”  
Galo smiles.  
“Can't argue with that.”  
Chuckling, Lio brings one of his hands to Galo's hip, and strokes up it. Spent or no, Galo immediately draws a shuddering breath.  
“Yeah,” he whispers.  
Entirely too amused by the reaction, Lio strokes again, trailing the barest hint of fingertips against the insidemost curve of his waist and ghosting up the side of his ribcage. Galo's eyes close, his breathing deepening.  
“Lio,” he all but whimpers out, and it sounds longing, emotional more than aroused, and once more Lio can't take his eyes off him.  
“I'm here,” he murmurs, kissing Galo's forehead. “You're mine now.”  
Through his laboured breathing, Galo smiles, his face lighting up.  
“Damn right.” And then he shudders, pressing his forehead against Lio's chest. “… touch me more?”  
The plea is honest and quiet, and Lio obliges, sinking one hand into his hair and stroking up his side with the other again. Galo shifts, moves into the touch, his face quickly taking on the dazed relaxation of his descent into the space where Lio sees him at his barest, his smallest, where his already honest and direct heart cries out with the earnestness of a child. Lio smiles, tender, and shifts, holding him up a little and reaching above them for pillows to brace him against.

With the pillows holding his weight off his bound hands, he pushes Galo mostly on his back, his entire body exposed. Galo looks at him, then, his eyes opening slightly, but when Lio bends down to kiss over his stomach, he closes them again, letting his head drop back and sighing at the contact.  
He's beautiful like that. Partly spread, back arched with the position of his arms, and somehow still leaning back almost completely relaxed, his eyes dazed and his breath deep, fast. Lio strokes his hands up his stomach, his legs. Down his shoulders. He just can't keep his hands off him.  
_He's mine_ , the part of him that he's trying not to enable too much whispers. _I'm the one who gets to touch him like this._ Others have had their chance. But since they let it fall through their fingers, he took his own. And he's not giving him up now.  
Galo is as strong as he is sensitive and vulnerable—stronger, even, able to carry the burdens of others and all too willing to if he's not stopped. Loud and chatty, but perhaps the best listener Lio has met after Meis, and better at unravelling seemingly complex problems into strikingly simple solutions. Impulsive and wise. Hyper and tender. Protective, yet ready to surrender power and responsibility to someone who would thrive with it.  
A beautiful being woven of contradiction upon contradiction, and no matter how long he spends with him, Lio feels like he's never quite hit the bottom of what there is to find out about Galo.  
But he loves what he's seen. And it makes him want to worship in his own way, to pay tribute to that beauty. To bring it to the light of day, in all its rawest complexity.  
He kisses at his neck, hands still trailing and stroking and leaving no part of his body untouched and unshivered. Galo shudders, calls out his name; he grins against his skin and moves down, kissing down his stomach.  
“L—Lio!”  
“Mmm?” he asks, lips dipping down almost to the edge of his pubic hair. Galo bites back what almost sounds like a sob.  
With a grin, he tilts his head to the side, and kisses the inside of his thigh.

Minutes pass. Lio takes his time, working him up to blazing heat. It's a strange mixture with his deep, hazy state, his reactions slower but more whole, as if he felt and did everything with his entire body. It's satisfying in itself. Lio feels like he could keep going forever, and just keep his hands, his lips on him, just keep drinking in everything that is _Galo_. But as he nibbles at his hip, Galo's dick starts hardening again, barely pressing against his chest, and Lio grins in excitement he hadn't noticed had slipped back into his veins.  
Maybe it's more of a smirk.  
Maybe he doesn't _care_.  
“There you are,” he croons, and Galo shudders and nods, arching his back a little.  
“Lio,” he calls, almost begging.  
“Still got any of your famous firefighter strength left?” he asks, kissing his stomach again.  
Galo breathes in and nods quickly, repeatedly. Lio smiles.  
“Good. You're riding.”

Perhaps a testament to how much he's already done in the last few hours, Galo slides down on Lio's erection with impressive ease. He's tired, and it shows, in the slump of his spine that the position of his shoulders doesn't quite compensate for anymore, but when Lio takes hold of his hips, he straightens and shakes his head, and starts moving without even being prompted.  
Lio lets him. Galo working himself on his dick is always a sight to behold, and in his current state it's even better, no matter how much he loves his usual energy and boundless enthusiasm. He's slow and full in his movements and quietly moans with every one of them, his voice only iterrupted by his breathing, coming faster and faster as he moves his hips with no help from his hands.  
He slides up and forward, and back down, and the heat of his body is almost as intoxicating as the sight. Lio purrs, and shifts his position to hit his sweet spot a little better, to watch him tremble.  
When he starts to whimper with the strain, Lio takes pity on him and grips his hips more firmly, pulling him down and meeting him with an upward thrust of his own hips.  
Galo cries out.  
“Ah—Lio!” A push up, another pull, another thrust. “ _Lio!_ ”  
His head keeps moving, forward to try and process the overwhelming feelings, backward to enjoy and release them. He looks so worked up and overstimulated and exhausted, and yet he's still seeking it out, following Lio's guidance even with Lio's firm hold on his hips, putting the last of his strength into moving his thighs. There's sobs in his voice again, although there are no tears on his face this time (yet, at least, Lio hasn't quite given up on the hope of seeing them again), and every time he's fully sheathed again, every time Lio presses deep inside him, he lets out the cutest little exhausted, satisfied whimper, like all he's wanted in life is for Lio to move deep inside him like that and _stay there_. And in that moment, in all honesty, Lio almost feels like his place _was_ indeed always meant to be there, deep inside Galo's body and heat.  
He's buzzing, with excitement, with love, with a desire to experience more and more, taste more and more, to feel every shape and nuance of him. With the need to keep kissing him, keep touching him, keep fucking him, keep loving him.  
So he keeps going. Keeps going until Galo starts to falter, keeps him moving until he can't any more savouring every moment, every movement, and watching all of Galo's reactions through it.  
When Galo fails to keep up with his rhythm, Lio grips his hips tighter and moves him harder. It's time to bring it all to a close.  
“You've done really well,” he murmurs, pushing up into him. “Do you want to come now?”  
Galo doesn't even say anything. He just nods, wordlessly, panting.  
Lio speeds up, grinding him down. He's not that far himself; maybe he can get himself to that point easily enough.  
“Go ahead, then,” he breathes, pushing in hard and deep, and Galo whines and gasps, and a second later starts wringing himself around Lio, already too spent for anything much to come out of him.  
He's whimpering during it, after it, shaking as he comes down from it, and it's enough for Lio, those noises as he pushes into him again. He comes, again, and he'd have bitten into him if he could, just to hear one of those whimpers rise into something higher, lighter.

When he's caught his breath, he sits up better and wraps his arms around a trembling Galo.  
“Good job,” he murmurs. “Hang in there.”  
Galo nods, wordlessly, and pants, his eyes still closed. Lio carefully holds him up enough to slide out of him, and then wraps him in a tight embrace to lean them both back on the bed, careful not to trap his leg under them.  
Galo looks beautiful like that. Completely spent. Even if Lio can still feel energy running through his veins, all this effort was worth it just for this sight. And for the knowledge that Galo enjoyed every moment of it.  
It's a kind of satisfaction in its own way. This was an evening well spent. A memory to treasure.  
As wedding nights go, he couldn't have imagined much better. And he has waking up to him in the morning to look forward to.  
If there's some lingering want nagging at him, he can just ignore it.  
He rests against Galo, and plays with his hair a little, wondering if he should get up now to get him cleaned up, or just ignore it and put it off for the morning.  
“Lio.”  
He looks down. Galo's eyes are still closed, but he opens them as Lio stares at him.  
“Hm?”  
“Stop pretending.”  
Lio blinks.  
“Acting like…” He's a little slurred, but regains some of his stability as words come to him, “like you don't want any more.”  
“… what do you mean?”  
Galo rolls his eyes. It's barely discernible with his half-lidded eyes, but he did it hard enough that Lio can see it anyway.  
“I can tell, y'know. I know when you're on fire.”  
Lio's throat tightens a little.  
“… you're exhausted. And I had fun, you know,” he adds, ruffling Galo's hair again.  
“But you still want more.”  
“Does it matter?”  
“Matters to me.”  
“How… Listen, you clearly can't go another round. We can go again in the morning,” he says, frustrated. The last thing he wants is for them to tarnish the memory of what was an _incredible_ evening by arguing about this. And making Galo feel bad for having less stamina than him is something he was trying to avoid at all costs. “I'm good. I had _fun_. This was…” he searches for words. “… it was kind of magical. I never thought I'd say that, but now… now I understand. A little. I think.”  
Galo smiles, proud and satisfied.  
“Still… who said I needed to be ready to go another round?”  
“… you're the one who just suggested it,” Lio points out, baffled.  
“No, no. I said _you_ want more so you should go another around.”  
“I'm… there's not much point unless you're involved.”  
“I _am_ involved!” He rolls his eyes again, but then sighs with a chuckle. “Let me spell it out, then. I'm out of the race, but that doesn't mean I'm not up for more. You wanna keep going? Keep going! Just don't expect me to, uh… be active.”  
Slowly, very slowly, the actual meaning of what Galo's trying to say rises to Lio's brain, and immediately after to his cheeks.  
“You want me to…”  
“I'm saying you can just keep going!”  
“But that's just using you!”  
“Maybe I don't _mind_ you using me!”  
They stare at each other in silence, Lio shocked at his words, and Galo apparently shocked that he said them at all.  
“… maybe I _like_ you using me,” he mumbles, looking away.  
Lio stares. That's not something he'd ever expected from Galo. But maybe that's something he absolutely should have expected from Galo.  
“… is that so?” he says, buying himself time to _think_. To recover from the way his entire body is burning.  
“… it's hard to explain okay? But it—it makes me happy. To think about it. Makes me happy if it feels good for you—that's not new, right?”  
“… I suppose not.”  
“And also…” He fidgets a little. “… also it's kinda hot.”  
Lio tries to smother a snorting laugh, and only manages to make himself cough.  
“H-hey, don't die on me!”  
“Will you kiss me again if I do?” Lio asks, teasing, but he does reach to kiss Galo's forehead because that's a wound he doesn't want to wake again. “Fine. I'll use you until I've had my fill, then. Or until I've decided it's enough,” he adds, just in case.  
Galo beams.

He props Galo's hips on some pillows.  
The entire conversation, the epiphany of what Galo wanted him to do has been enough to get him partly fired up already, which he's not sure how to feel about, and setting up an almost completely limp Galo in an easy-to-fuck position has done most of the rest; by the time Galo is ready, Lio barely needs to touch himself.  
Galo grins when he feels it. Maybe they're both just as crazy and that's why they were made to be.  
His arms are still tied. In the face of his enthusiasm, Lio hasn't bothered taking the straps off, instead just checking on him quickly. He definitely looks best like that, face down with nothing to hold himself up or control the movements of his body with.  
(He'll look even better on his back, but Lio does intend to get there)  
Lio slides in easily, comfortably. Galo barely shifts, lightly moaning into the bed; his legs spread a little more, but when Lio grabs them what little tension was left in them dissolves, and he lets Lio rearrange them.  
“You feel great,” Lio murmurs, bending forward and stroking his back. Galo pants, smiling lightly, almost dreamily.  
“'s good…” A blissful sigh. “Happy to serve…”  
Lio chuckles, and moves. Thrusting with no feedback is… surprisingly enjoyable.  
Maybe he shouldn't be surprised. In a way, it isn't that different from what they started with, when Galo let him use his mouth as he saw fit, but he hadn't considered that it could be something they enjoyed _in general_.  
Well, he's considering it now. He's considering it a lot, thrusting experimentally, varrying angles and strength so he can find not what makes Galo come apart, like he usually does, but what makes _him_ burn, what sends lightning strikes of sensation or excitement up his spine, what gives his body the most satisfaction.  
It's dizzying. Dizzying and all too easy to get lost in, too easy to close his eyes and forget everything for a second and let himself _feel_ , taking his pleasure from Galo's body, from the heat and friction and pressure his existence provides. And when he does open them again, panting and wound up so tight he's this close to crying out with every movement, Galo's laying with his eyes open too, staring into the distance to the side, the faintest hint of a forgotten smile on his face as his cheek drags up and down against the sheets.  
Lio grips his hips hard and thrusts, faster and harder, and cries out with the pleasure shooting through him.  
Galo's cried out too, but it's light, so light. Every time Lio thrusts into him, something comes out of his mouth, but he barely seems aware of it. It's been fully night for a while now, and even with the bedside lamp on, darkness has wrapped around them like a cocoon, isolating them from the world. Nothing left except Galo's body under him, Galo's heat around him, Galo's voice coming from just an arm's length away. Galo's dazed face, sculpted with striking precision by the shadows and light playing across it. He loses himself in it, drinks it all, and it doesn't take him long (or maybe it does? He's given up on keeping track of time) to start coming apart, to press into him harder, faster, chasing his orgasm and then holding it on the edge, just for a few thrusts, for the simple pleasure of feeling it there and building it up to bursting. And then he does, thrusting hard and fast and then sheathing himself completely, bearing into Galo with his full weight, shivers running down his spine because Galo _whimpers_ , whimpers, whimpers.

Somehow, the feeling of it all has only fired him up further. He's soft, yes, but he can already feel himself building up again, just from the sensation, the excitement.  
_One last time_ , he tells himself. _One last time._  
Pulling out, he reaches down to pet Galo's hair, then goes to work on the straps holding his arms back.  
Galo cries out when they come free, sobbing a little. Carefully, Lio massages them, then guides them carefully down to his sides.  
“Feel okay?” he asks quietly.  
Galo shuts his eyes and nods.  
_You felt so good_ , he wants to tell him. _So warm, so pliant, even better than I expected_. But Galo's so dazed, and Lio remembers his enthusiasm at the entire thing, and instead he decides to just keep going, to give him what he's asked for and _use_ him.  
But he's still a romantic, no matter what he might tell Meis and Gueira when they smile knowingly at him. When he flips Galo on his back, he pins him down with his body first to kiss him, deep and slow and savouring.  
That seems to bring some fire and awareness back into Galo's eyes. Lio smiles, fondly, full of excitement and love, and brushes his hair back.  
“Good boy,” he whispers, before pulling back and settling between his legs.

It's even easier this time. Lio slides into him like he was perfectly crafted to fit him, and keeps his eyes on his as he fucks him, slowly, savouring the moment. The fire is still burning in his veins, but it's for Galo that he burns now, for this feeling, for the chance to make it all _last_. And the smile on Galo's face is warm and satisfied and almost smug even through the haze he's settled in, and Lio can't help but chuckle and smile back as he moves.  
It feels so strangely comfortable. He's not sure _how_ they could ever pull it off without spending this many hours on preparation, but part of him wants to do this again later, to make it a staple. He _likes_ this Galo who's so spent and proud of it, likes this kind of control where Galo doesn't even need to make the effort of surrendering because all of his strength is gone. He could be rough, but he can also be gentle, and that's what he does now, and Galo has to take _that_ , to let himself be taken slowly and tenderly, and the realisation is clearly tinting his face red, but he's too blissed out by now to complain.  
“I have to thank you for this great idea,” Lio says, a little breathless but close to laughing in joy. “You look incredible like this.”  
Galo's eyes flutter, corners pulled in amusement.  
“… told you,” he breathes, tired and warm.  
It's a different kind of heat, and with it, Lio actually feels _satisfied_. Not spent, quite, maybe, but the _want_ , the restless feeling in his stomach has settled down, purring warmly inside him like still-hot embers warming a fireplace through the night after a blaze. He's happy and comfortable and bursting with love that he just lavishes on Galo with his hips, with his hands, with his smiles.  
And Galo, the first of many things in this strange new life he's started to build, is there to stay. He can kiss him again. Make love to him again. Laze around naked or eat pizza in their underwear again. The ring on his finger still hasn't imprinted on his senses yet, and he can feel it, carving itself a spot into the flesh of his hands for years to come.  
It's terrifying, because Lio has never _had_ something that he hasn't lost or had to fight for, not in many years. But for today, and for Galo, for the future, Lio tries. He allows himself to feel safe.  
Galo is strong, and together they feel invincible. He won't let himself be taken down, especially if he knows Lio is waiting for him.  
When Lio finally comes, leaned forward over Galo's chest and pinning their intertwined hands to the mattress, a wave of deep, heavy satisfaction crashes through him, settling into his bones, and for the first time as far as he remembers, he actually feels…  
Sated.

He does clean them off after (quickly, and he'll probably want to change the sheets in the morning _anyway_ , but for now the bed feels fit to sleep—and more importantly, _wake up_ —in, and that's what matters), and tucks Galo properly into bed in a show of protectiveness that makes Galo giggle at him (in his state, Lio will give him a free pass), and by the time he settles into bed next to him, the feeling of actually being content has gone back to feeling _strange_.  
Somehow, Galo senses it. He really is too good at this.  
“You're overthinking again,” he mumbles, wrapping an arm around Lio's waist.  
“… probably,” Lio chuckles.  
“Still doesn't feel real?”  
Lio thinks about it.  
“… maybe that's it.” He sighs, and tangles himself up in Galo's body, resolutely pushing the feeling aside to focus on the satisfaction in his bones and Galo's warmth. “… it felt the same after the Parnassus.”  
“… yeah. But we did win.” He kisses Lio's cheek. “And we did get married.”  
Lio can't hold back the light laugh that rises from his chest.  
“I know, I know.”  
They settle down, and this time, Lio actually feels himself drifting into hazy comfort, actually _sleepy_.  
“… what time is it?' Galo asks.  
Lio chuckles.  
“I don't even want to know. It doesn't matter, right? We don't have to get up.”  
“True.” He pauses. “ _That_ feels weird.”  
“Learn to take a break sometimes.”  
“Look who's talking.”  
Lio ruffles his hair.  
“I'll make you breakfast in the morning. Or the afternoon. Whenever we wake up.”  
“What!? That's my line.”  
“If you can stand still long enough for that tomorrow morning, then I haven't done my job right,” Lio teases.  
“Ooooh, and what'll you do if I can? Start over?”  
Lio smiles.  
“Think you can take it?”  
“Only one way to find out, right?”

Lio's bacon is a little overcooked, but that's fine.  
He has a lifetime to learn.

**Author's Note:**

> For PWP this sure is cheesy as fuck.
> 
> ANYWAY SORRY THIS TOOK ME A MONTH AND HALF this month was terrible. Thanks to everyone who waited.
> 
> Comments make the best presents ;) ;) ;)  
>  ~~Actually art makes the best pres—~~


End file.
